


Reflections

by TheCopyMistress



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Study, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mirror of Erised, One-Sided Attraction, One-Sided Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 11:10:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCopyMistress/pseuds/TheCopyMistress
Summary: Draco learns that love and hate are two obsessions separated by a thin line.Alternatively: Draco does a little self-reflecting after the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry and his mother remind him that mirrors always have something new to say.





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> So my friends and I had to write a fanfiction for a class final. Thus... This was born. This will later be tweaked and edited, but I thought I enjoy this version as well, so it'll sit here for a while.
> 
> Co-written with To.Olympus.Allonsy on ff.net, along with 2 other friends!

As he walked amongst the rubble, Draco was took in the aftermath of the war that had occurred the previous night. The smoke that still lingered in the air burned his lungs, every breath laborious as he struggled for clean air. The early morning sky was colored a dark grey that blocked out the sun, and his vision was clouded by ashes and embers that floated down from above. 

He had left his mother and father in the courtyard, mourning the ashes of their nobility alongside those of the Dark Lord. What was left of them now? At the end of it all, the Malfoys had lost everything.  And that was okay….wasn’t it? 

Draco didn’t know what to make of everything. All these events had happened so fast. They were all such a blur that when he tried to replay everything in his mind, it was completely useless. He would remember bits and pieces but trying to put them together to form a string of events didn’t work. 

He can remember all the screams, all the crashing, all the burning - how it came to be couldn’t register in his head. The flashing lights of spells, the rasping pleas of Charity Burbage, the life fading from Dumbledore’s eyes as he disappeared over the edge of the tower, and the velvet-like quality of the Dark Lord’s commands. These bits and pieces were the ghosts that have haunted him for days on end, memories he couldn’t escape. Draco was just so  _ tired _ of all the fear, damage, and fighting that had found its way into his life. He wanted nothing more than to take a moment and breathe, sit and wallow in nothingness while worrying about absolutely nothing. Even though this massive war was over, he knew it wasn’t quite time to get the relaxation he wanted.

He felt his feet begin to move. Maybe it was his body telling him that it was time to leave, to get out of this ungodly place. But where was there to go? Hogwarts was essentially destroyed to bits. Outside of the castle was nothing but forest. 

_ Just take me anywhere _ , he thought to himself.

His feet obeyed. They began to shuffle west, heading towards the smoky remains of the Hogwarts castle. 

There was no set destination for this spontaneous trip. Draco just wanted nothing more than to get out of this blasted place and to stop inhaling smoke for once. He found himself walking towards a part of the castle that wasn’t completely destroyed.

The unfamiliar location snapped Draco out of his drowsy trance. He vaguely remembers seeing this area throughout his schooling, yet among the rubble, he couldn’t quite figure out where it was. Surely he’s passed by here before. He continued to walk, moving towards where he believed was the dungeon hall.  _ Keep going _ , the voice inside his head told him. Draco began moving on, still hoping to try his best to get out of the smoke. 

A set of winding stairs came into Draco’s view, which was rather curious. He didn’t know that this part of the castle ever existed. He thought he knew every inch of Hogwarts. 

_ Go down, _ the voice commanded yet again. 

As he made his way down the stairs, Draco couldn’t help but notice that the air was becoming mustier and the darkness growing with every step he took. Draco pulled out his wand to cast the Lumos spell as he began to see less and less. The set of stairs didn’t seem to end. The moment Draco’s foot hit the floor, he sighed in relief. He trotted down the short hallway only to be met with a tiny, cramped, stone-walled room. It was relatively messy, with cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, cracks in the walls, dust in every corner and the floor was covered in pebbles and debris that had  Old items were scattered all over the place, and Draco figured that this room was just used to stow away irrelevant items. It looked as though no one had used this room for a very, very long time.

“Must be a basement,” Draco mumbled to himself. 

Several things seemed to be tucked away in the basement. It was nice to see things that were intact after the recent chaos. The first thing he focused on was an old stack of books. They were completely covered in so much dust and cobwebs that there was no way make out the titles on the spines. Draco watched as several spiders scrambled away from his light. Old desks were stacked neatly in one corner, cauldrons piled up in several boxes—and something that was much different from the others. 

It was a very large object, standing several heads taller than Draco. It looked formless due to the cloth that’s draped over it. With the little strength he had left inside him, he yanked the fabric off of the object. Draco’s eyes widened with awe the moment he gazed upon it. 

A mirror. 

It is not that he’s never seen a mirror before, but there was something different about this one. It had a certain attractive aura to it, pulling him closer and closer. 

Draco took step closer to get a good look at himself in the mirror. He honestly couldn’t have looked any worse than he did. His suit, which was a very nice suit, had been torn in several places, his hair was caked in ashes and he looked absolutely exhausted. This was possibly the worst he’s ever looked in his life. To be fair, he hadn’t slept for days and each day had been adrenaline rush after adrenaline rush. Despite how terrible he looked, he couldn’t avert his eyes, and nitpicking at his awful appearance made him want to look more.

“Malfoy?” Someone had found him. 

Draco looked over his shoulder in the direction of the voice. The Potter boy was standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets and oscillating from leg to leg. He looked unsure of himself, which Draco thought was strange seeing as he just fought a war and came out the victor. 

_ Him _ . He was the catalyst of every horrible thing that had happened to his family over the past five years. He was the reason his father went to Azkaban, losing his place within the Ministry.  _ He _ was the reason for their family’s fall from power among the Death Eaters, for  _ he _ was the defeater of the Dark Lord. The violent emotions that washed over him almost took him off his feet and he automatically reached for his wand. But Harry was faster, wand out of his pocket and pointed at Draco before he could even blink.

“I came to talk.” His voice was firm, but there was a hint of pleading in his eyes. “We’ve killed enough today, don’t you think?” 

Draco actually hadn’t killed anyone. He was a coward and he was weak, and though he had his orders, there was no way he could carry through with them. The slight tremble in his wand hand gave all of this away, while Harry’s was sure and steady. They stared each other down, each lowering their wands slowly. 

“How did you find me?” Draco asked suspiciously, depositing his wand back to his pocket, but keeping his fingers curled around the grip. He was sure the man across from him did the same.

“Saw you heading in this direction. Took a wild guess.” Harry shrugged, pulling his hand out of his pocket to cross his arms behind his head, wandering towards Draco to stop at the stairs leading down towards him and take a seat, stretching out his legs in front of him. He sighed tiredly and leaned back on his hands. So much for Harry being as defensive as himself. “Like I said, I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” 

“I’m not really sure, to be honest,” Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s been a wild couple of months, hasn’t it?” Draco snorted, too amused to be bothered by making such an undignified sound. An understatement if he had ever heard one. From keeping Potter prisoner in his home for the Death Eaters to stalling for him, trying to buy him time, only to fight on opposite sides of a midnight battle sixteen years in the making. He smirked at the Gryffindor over his shoulder.

“That’s one way to put it.” Running a hand through ashy locks, he walked lazily closer to Potter. He watched his own feet as they moved closer to the other man, stopping in front of him. The hand still in his pocket clenched into a fist. He couldn’t understand  _ any _ of it. Why was Potter so kind, so at ease when hours ago, they were enemies literally trying to kill each other? And  _ why  _ was he so wound up all of a sudden? He felt the tension building in his shoulders even as he tried to maintain his casual appearance, and he was suddenly all too aware that he was just standing there in front of Harry, who was staring back at him with a puzzled expression. He felt his cheeks heat up, and he moved hastily to sit next to him, planting his feet and resting his elbows on his knees. 

He could see Harry study him for a moment before he spoke. “Why did you help us at Malfoy Manor?” 

Draco shook his head in response. “I didn’t.”

“But you did. You knew it was me, you knew what Voldemort was offering for my head. It would have bought you back his favor, wouldn’t it?” Harry scratched the back of his head, only to hiss and flinch. 

Draco turned his head, and seeing the crimson that stained Harry’s fingertips sent another strange flash of anger through him. He wanted to hurt whoever hurt him, until he realized that it  _ just might _ have been him. His clasped hands squeezed each other, knuckles turning white as he fought against the storm brewing inside of him. 

Harry’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts, apparently content with ignoring his injuries. “I never thanked you… So I’m doing it now, I guess. You saved me even though it would’ve been better for you if you hadn’t.”

“Yeah, well…” Draco sighed heavily. He had no idea how to play this off, mainly because he hadn’t the faintest idea why he did any of it. “I don’t know what to tell you, Potter. Maybe I was feeling nice that day.” He practically felt the man next to him roll his eyes, and as if he sensed the tension, Harry decided to change the subject.

“I know it wouldn’t mean anything to you, but Ginny sends her thanks as well.” 

_ Ugh. That disgusting Weasley girl. _ Why would Harry choose her, a blood traitor, a nothing? What did she have to offer him when she had no money, no prestige, no—Wait. Why did he even care? “Ha. Yeah, I’m sure she’s real chuffed, isn’t she?” Harry hummed in agreement, oblivious to the sarcasm dripping from Draco’s tongue. 

“I have something for you.” Draco turned to look at Harry curiously, who shifted his weight to allow himself to reach back into his pocket. Grey eyes widened as he pulled out a wand and offered it to him. “Hawthorn, ten inches, unicorn hair, right?” Draco looked up at him, confused. Harry shrugged in response. “Ollivander looked at it for me. It’s a good wand. I’m sorry I had to take it from you.”

Draco plucked the wand carefully from Harry’s grip, cradling it in his palms. “You won it. It won’t listen to me anymore.” For some reason, that didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. He had a feeling that had anyone else taken it from him, he would’ve been livid. 

“No, I don’t think so.” As he said that, Draco felt the magic sing through the wood. He gave it an experimental flick, and a gentle light emanated from the tip to float through the room before fading. “Besides, I don’t need it. I’ve got mine back.”

Draco smiled gently, eyes still locked on his wand. It felt like reconciling with an estranged friend. He found it strange really, how his heart swelled at the gesture. “Thank you.” 

“Look,” Harry started, “I know that we have never gotten along—”

_ No. _ The word flashed through Draco’s mind, an immediate reaction.

“—And I know that we will never see eye to eye—”

_ No. _ Again? Why?

“—But I was hoping… Maybe we can try and be friends?” There was hope in Harry’s green eyes, and Draco couldn’t help but feel drawn to that look. He laughed softly, more of a scoff if he thought about it. It caught him off guard how much those four words  _ hurt _ . He didn’t know what he wanted to hear, he just knew that it wasn’t that.

“Sure… Friends.” He turned towards Harry and caught the grin on his face, another pang shooting through his chest. “Go get that wound taken care of, Potter.”

“I’ll see you around?” Harry rose from the ground, offering him a hand up. Draco took it, ignoring the spark that shot up his arm at the contact, ignoring the warmth that spread from their connected hands to his face. He coughed as he stood, trying to hide the blush that colored his cheeks.

“Yeah.” They shook hands, clapping each other on the shoulder before he turned away, walking towards the mirror on the opposite side of the room. 

“Potter?” He called, not turning to look at him. He saw Harry swivel back through his reflection.

“Yeah?”

“I’d like it if next time we met, you didn’t have pointy things so close to my face.” He held up the wand Harry had recently returned to him. 

The joke earned Draco another one of those brilliant smiles, and they turned away from each other. He inspected the mirror (or rather, pretended to inspect it) until he heard the heavy wooden door shut, signaling Harry’s departure. Releasing a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, Draco’s shoulders slumped as he glared harshly at his own reflection. 

His grey eyes were sunken, outlined with dark purple circles. He hadn’t slept well in weeks, and the night had almost pushed him over the edge. The black suit he donned was torn in several places, revealing angry red burns from barely escaping the Room of Requirement after that idiot Crabbe set it ablaze. 

The longer he thought about it, the more he realized: there was no winner or loser tonight. He saw the bodies of his classmates and Death Eaters alike scattered throughout the castle, and each of those bodies was taken from someone living. Someone will mourn their loss, and it was too late to correct any of it. 

Something in the mirror caught Draco’s eye, breaking his train of thought. The edges of his reflection went fuzzy, and the longer he stared, the blurrier the image became, until finally, it wasn’t a mirror at all. The scene set in front of him portrayed himself, of that he was certain. A few years older he assumed, by the definition of his jaw and the broadening of his shoulders. He reclined in a loveseat, reading a book that rested on his crossed legs, looking far more content than Draco himself had ever felt in his life. The Draco-not-Draco looked up then, smiling warmly at someone that had yet to come into view. He reached up, grabbing one of the steaming mugs of tea and ho lding it under his nose, appreciating its subtle aroma before cautiously taking a sip. 

A pair of legs came into view, and the person, a man, plopped down on the couch as Draco-not-Draco leaned forward to place his cup on the table in front of them. The black mess of hair and warm green eyes had Draco taking a step backwards in shock. He had just seen this man not five minutes ago, leaving this very room. Other Harry stretched an arm across the top of the loveseat, with Draco-not-Draco settling against him as he continued to read. They looked…  _ Happy _ . Together?

What on Earth… What was this?

He didn’t dare move from his spot in fear of destroying the image in front of him. He craned his head to read the words etched into the frame:  _ MIRROR OF ERISED _ . Well, that didn’t clear anything up. He furrowed his pale brows in confusion, reaching up to scratch his head as he looked into the mirror again. 

Draco-not-Draco was laughing at something that other Harry was saying, leaning further into his touch to muffle his snickers in the crook of his partner’s neck. They were wrapped up in each other, and Draco could feel their connection, through their touches, their smiles, their eyes. He couldn’t tear himself away from them, blindsided by his own emotions as they whirled within him. Anger. Confusion. Envy. Longing. They cycled through him and left him dizzy and alone on this side of the mirror. He was so caught up that he didn’t even notice the sound of the door thundering through the chamber as it was pushed open.

“Draco, my love?” A voice tore him out of his reverie as he whipped around, covering the image in the mirror with his body as his mother approached from the doorway. 

“M-mother! What are you doing here??” Draco stammered as he awkwardly tried to block Narcissa’s view of the mirror. 

“Looking for you, of course.” Narcissa said glancing around the room, “Draco dear, you disappeared all of a sudden and I got worried. What are you doing down here in the dungeons?” 

“Nothing really, Mother!” Draco muttered staring determinedly down at the floor, “I was just curious about what was down here.” If his mother ever saw what he saw in the mirror, she would never forgive him… She would be so ashamed of him, wouldn’t she? 

Her drifting eyes caught sight of the mirror behind him and Narcissa’s eyes widened slightly.

“The Mirror of Erised….” Narcissa murmured thoughtfully. Startled, Draco’s glanced up at his mother. 

“You know of it?” 

Narcissa smiled mysteriously, “Mirrors always have something new to say. Erised, or desire in reverse, shows the viewer their heart’s deepest desire.”

Draco froze. “So what I see in the mirror is not something that will necessarily happen in the future but something that I  _ want _ to happen?” His face warmed slightly as his heartbeat started speeding up.

“That is correct; however, remember this Draco,” Narcissa warned, “What you see in the mirror might not guarantee you happiness.” 

Draco watched as his mother walked gracefully towards him, as cold and haughty as before their perfect world started falling to pieces around them. His mother, who was always there for him. His mother, who was just as loyal to the Dark Lord as his father was, yet… His mother, who made an Unbreakable Vow—one that contradicted the Dark Lord’s orders nonetheless—with Professor Snape  _ for him _ .

Narcissa finally came to a stop before Draco, snapping him out of his thoughts, and grasped his face in her cool hands. 

“What’s the matter, my love?” Narcissa said as she tilted Draco’s head from side to side and examined his weary face. “Was it something you saw in the mirror?”

Draco coloured slight as he remembered exactly what he saw in the mirror but remained silent as he determinedly avoided her eyes. Narcissa’s eyes narrowed slightly at his evasiveness.

“I ran into Potter while I was searching for you and he was the one who informed me that you were down here.” Narcissa whispered as she released Draco’s face. “Did you have a nice talk?” 

“What would I have to talk about with Potter!” Draco sputtered out. His face reddened slightly, thinking about just how vibrant his green eyes are, the calluses that he felt from Harry’s hand that could only have come from years of playing quidditch and perhaps from some of those calluses could have come from his time on the ru— He cut his thoughts off abruptly, realizing he just daydreamed about Potter while he was still in conversation with his  _ mother _ .    
  


“He came to return my wand!” Draco blurted out, shifting from one foot to the other, hoping his trip to la la land went unnoticed. “Here, Mother, you should have yours back.” He quickly thrust his mother’s wand at her and nearly beaned her with it. He could feel his face heat up again, this time in embarrassment. 

Amusement flickered through Narcissa’s eyes as she carefully took her wand from Draco’s tight grasp. After giving it a cursory examination, Narcissa looked back up at him with an unreadable expression on her face. 

“Speaking of Potter, answer me this, Draco. Why did you lie when Potter and his friends were brought to the manor? Why did you choose to protect Potter rather than regain  the Dark Lord’s favor ?” Narcissa asked. Draco was silent for a bit, trying to gather his thoughts. His mind weighed the different possible approaches of telling his mother, contemplated just how to explain to his mother and speculated the countless potential reactions and consequences ranging from being given the silent treatment to being disowned and tossed out onto the street like trash. 

“It was just a moment of weakness, Mother, nothing more.” Draco explained after a palpable pause. 

Narcissa stared at him thoughtfully for awhile before asking him, “Did you know he was the one who told me you were still alive?” Recalling the last couple hours, Draco mutedly shook his head. 

Narcissa went on. “It is not something I will likely ever admit aloud again, but I played a part in the Dark Lord’s demise. I lied to the Dark Lord, his followers, my own flesh-and-blood sister that Harry Potter was dead. All so that I could enter the castle to find you, Draco.”  

Draco stared at Narcissa in befuddlement, “But why? Why would you help Potter? Why would you risk the Dark Lord’s wrath and everything you and Father worked so hard for? Just to make sure that I was alright?” His harsh, heavy breaths sounded loud to him in the gloomy dungeon and his heart felt like it was entrapped tightly in strings. 

When Narcissa smiled at Draco sadly, the invisible strings around his heart tightened just slightly. 

“For me, our family always comes first. My priority has always been you, Draco. Dark Lord or no Dark Lord, you will always be my son.” With her words, the restraints around his heart slowly began to loosen and recede. 

Draco hesitated for a moment before he gently reached across the space between them and engulfed his mother in a warm embrace. He buried his face into her shoulder and murmured, “I love you too, Mother.”

Narcissa’s eyes glistened softly before closing as she also wrapped her arms around the slight body of her son. The peacefulness of mother and son was broken when Draco took a deep, shaky breath and muttered, “I… chose not to turn Potter and his friends in because… Because I was tired. When I received the Dark Lord’s honor, I was so proud and  _ so ready  _ to prove myself. I repaired the Vanishing cabinets, I tried delivering the cursed necklace, I tried poison—” Draco choked and took a few deep breaths trying to get ahold of himself. Narcissa’s warm hands rubbing his back soothingly prompted him to continue, 

“And the worst part of it was, when I had the chance, I pointed my wand at Dumbledore and I just _ could not _ k-k-kill him.” Draco’s voice cracked and he closed his eyes against his mother’s shoulder, not wanting to see the look of judgement, of disappointment on her face. 

“Ever since then, I feel like the Dark Lord’s mark has been a reminder of the sacrifice it takes to be one of his and how a part of me was unwilling to give my all to the Dark Lord.”

Narcissa’s arms tightened around him briefly before pulling his body away from her so that they faced each other fully. 

“My precious boy,  _ you  _ can be whoever  _ you  _ choose to be. Do not try to be too much like your father and I. Find something other than honor to live for. Find something that will make you happy.” 

Draco closed his eyes in relief, as he tried to think of a time when he was truly happy. Sadly, nothing really came to mind at first until his thoughts inadvertently wandered to the image of himself and Potter that he saw within the mirror and how  _ happy  _ he had looked. Feeling bold, Draco re-opened his eyes and stared straight into his mother’s. 

“And if my happiness brings shame to our family name?” 

Narcissa Malfoy stared unwaveringly back. “Then I will continue to love you, just as I have always loved you.” she sighed regretfully, “Something that my family and I could not do with my own blood sister, Andromeda.” 

Narcissa grasped Draco’s hands tightly in her own, “Love your family Draco. No matter their life choices or who they choose to love. Love them for who they are.” 

Eyes welling up with unshed tears, Draco whispered fiercely, “I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! I don't usually write HP fanfics, but this was really fun to create, especially since it's our first shot at collab writing. Comments are appreciated <3


End file.
